Push and Pull
by CineMariel
Summary: Taking place between the end of Mockingjay and the Epilogue, Peeta and Katniss begin to work their way back into each other's lives.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is my first piece of fan fiction. It takes place before the epilogue in Mockingjay. It's about Katniss and Peeta trying to figure out how to be around each other after everything they've been through. It might be a bit slow at the beginning. I hope you like it :)

Chapter 1

I wake up.

I lay in bed until Greasy Sae knocks on my door and barges into my room without waiting for me to answer.

And, just like every other day, I get out of bed. Knowing that if I leave it right away I can walk downstairs and maintain my silence. So I do.

I sit by the window. Looking but not seeing outside.

It's been four days since I last saw him. He's been home for almost a month.

I remember seeing him the day he came back. His blue eyes darted around taking everything in.

When he saw me his eyes widened. My mouth fell open in shock. Neither of us moved until suddenly he turned around and sped back to his house, slamming the door behind him.

I saw him a second time one week later. He was taking another walk. This time he was ready to see me. But I wasn't ready to see him. When our eyes met he stiffly raised one hand and waved at me. Or at least it looked like a wave. It was difficult for me to piece together his actions. It was like he was in slow motion and I was just staring at him trying to decipher his movements.

"Peeta" my lips formed the word. His name. My hand twitched up and I tried to wave back like a normal person would.

A few days later, Greasy Sae forced me to take a bath. She was unrelenting. Threatened to talk to me all day if I didn't. After I had taken the bath I assumed she would let me spend the rest of the day staring out the window. I was wrong.

"You're clean as a whistle! Let's show you off." Greasy Sae beamed. I found that I couldn't say no. I nodded, consenting to a small walk. We were almost back to the house, unscathed when I saw him.

Hew was just leaving his house, pulling on a coat to combat the chill in the air. I stared at my shoes and he was fascinated with the buttons on his coat. Neither of us was ready for this interaction. After what felt like forever, Greasy Sae cleared her throat.

"Peeta. It's good to see you." She squeezed my hand. I stared down at it curiously; wondering why I couldn't feel it even though I could see the muscles in her hand flex.

"It's- It's nice to see you too." I hear as if from very far away. I shake my head wondering why his voice is so faint. I glance upward and see him staring right at me. Everything slams back into place. I can hear again.

"Cold weather for March, huh?" Sae says. I can feel her hand squeezing mine now.

"Yeah" he and I mumble at the same time.

"It'll get warmer soon." I say. Taking in his appearance. His hair was longer, it needed to be cut. His nails were ragged, his skin pale. But his eyes were exactly how I remembered them.

Four days ago, I saw him again. I was sitting outside. A new way to avoid talking. I ran my fingers through the grass. I lay down and looked at the sky. I was just closing my eyes when I heard it. Footsteps. I sat up abruptly. And there he was. Only a few feet away.

"Hello" he said, formally.

"Hello" I replied equally polite.

"How are you today?" He asked.

"Fine. How are you?" I replied robotically.

"I'm fine as well."

I wanted to say something real. But the only thing I could muster was pleasantries.

"That's good." There was a pause. It continued, threatening to last forever. One of us needed to say something.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come to dinner on Thursday?" Peeta asked, words stringing together.

"Yes" this word tumbled out of my mouth. I didn't think before I spoke and now I'm committed.

That was Sunday and now it's Thursday and I have to go have dinner with Peeta Mellark. Peeta Mellark who would have killed me if I hadn't kissed him. Peeta Mellark who was brainwashed into believing I was a mutt. Who has shiny memories of me killing almost everyone dear to him. Who risked everything for me. Peeta Mellark who used to love me.

So here I am. Sitting in this chair. Knowing that in a few hours I'll be seeing him. I'll be alone with him. Without Greasy Sae to fill our pauses.

And I couldn't be more terrified.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Greasy Sae makes me take another bath. I don't fight her this time. I know it's a good idea.

I'm seeing Peeta again tonight. I wonder what he'll say. Is he wondering what I'm going to say? Is he thinking about me at all? Maybe he just needs someone besides Haymitch to talk to.

Does he still want to kill me? Surely he doesn't. He wouldn't invite me to dinner if he wanted to kill me. He'd just do it, right? Maybe it's to ask me to stay away from him. Maybe he wants to tell me that he's made a full recovery and doesn't think I'm a mutt anymore. Maybe it's just for another round of Real or Not Real.

What am I going to have to say? The whole time I've been back in twelve I've barely left my house. What will we talk about? The view out my window? The few walks Greasy Sae has made me take? How much I miss hunting? How much I miss other things?

I have no idea what he'll say or what I'll say. But I can control how I look. There's something comforting in that.

I open my closet, looking at some of the more casual clothes Cinna made me for the Victory Tour. I wince, remembering the man who made them and how much I owe him. I decide on a burgundy sweater, grey pants, and comfortable black boots. As I stare at myself in the mirror, fidgeting I try to remember how long it's been since I've seen my reflection. But before I can recall I walk downstairs and dry my hair by the fire.

After I can put if off no longer, I walk over to his house.

I stand on the stoop, willing myself to knock. What are we going to talk about? Almost everyone we know is dead, has abandoned us or won't talk to us because we remind them of something they don't want to remember.

But, Peeta. How is he? Is he the way he was in the war? The games? When we were in school together? Or when he gave me the bread?

I knock.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I knock.

I wait. No one answers.

I knock again. _Maybe he's not there. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he's much busier than I am._ I think. _Maybe he's forgotten and I'm- _

He answers the door.

His hair is still too long, it hangs in his eyes. He's still thin, not as thin as I am but you can tell he hasn't been eating well. He has bags under his eyes like the ones Octavia used to chastise me for even though I could hardly control what my face decided to do. He hasn't been sleeping. Well, neither have I. But his eyes are still the same bright blue. The same color that spied on me through mud and leaves in the arena. The same pair that filled with tears as he put the berries to his lips to show the capitol that he wasn't just a piece in their games.

This is the first time I really allow myself to look at him since he had returned to twelve. To comprehend the fact that he's here and I'm here. I had this overwhelming urge to throw my arms around his neck and never let go.

"Katniss?"

"Yes?" And suddenly what little excitement I had at his presence was gone. What did Peeta and I have to talk about? Only things that would cause me pain. Things I wasn't ready to discuss at all.

"Did you want to come in?" He asks, a ghost of his old smile appears.

"Sure." I brush past him, I take off my coat and hang it on the rack by the door out of habit. His house smells like warm bread and something else familiar.

"Lamb stew." I jump because Peeta is standing right behind me and I'm not used to his presence at all.

"I thought I smelled something familiar." I try to smile too, attempting to start a conversation with him.

"I thought you would like it." Peeta says, forcing his smile as well.

We stand there in uncomfortable silence. I have no idea what to say. He just stares at me, waiting for me to spout more generic small talk. Clearly he doesn't know that this is the longest conversation I've had in months. I look at my fingernails, tearing at the cuticles, racking my brain for talking points.

"Should we eat?" asks Peeta.

"Yes" I say, relieved.

He walks over to a chair and pulls it out, then hesitates. I take the other chair. He stares at me for a moment then sits down.

"Oh," I blurt out "Where you holding that out for m-"

"Don't worry about it." he reassures.

We both laugh uncomfortably.

"I'll go get the stew" Peeta gets up and ladles two bowls for us. He brings them over to me and the smell is heavenly.

"It smells good." I say, hoping that this compliment will put us both at ease.

"Thanks," he says nervously "but reserve your judgements until you've actually tasted it."

I let out a small chuckle. A real one. He smiles. That seems real too. This is progress.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

We eat quietly. The food is giving us an excuse to remain silent and I think we're both thankful for that. I get up and get another bowl. So does Peeta, he grabs the ladle and gives me a big helping.

"Thank you," I mumble.

Peeta nods. He gets himself some more as well and we return to our seats. I wonder if we should be talking. Is eating in silence odd? I try to remember when we used to eat together. Peeta and I have shared meals together before. Did we talk then?

"How is it?" Peeta asks, breaking the silence.

I look at him, confused. Lost in thought.

"The stew" he confirms for my benefit.

"Good" I shake my head, clearing my thoughts "it's very good. I like it."

"Good" Peeta says.

We keep eating. It's too quiet. I haven't actually wanted to talk since I've been back to twelve. I've spent most of my time avoiding anything resembling a conversation but now I feel like I'm supposed to be talking. But there aren't many safe topics for us to talk about.

"Thank you for inviting me," I blurt out remembering Effie's lessons in etiquette.

"Of course," Peeta says, seeming surprised I spoke "it's nice to have some company."

"How long have you been back?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

"About a month," he says avoiding my eyes "they flew me in from the Capitol... or what used to be the Capitol... or whatever they're calling it now."

"Right..." I say trailing off.

"Have you spoken to anyone?" he asks, looking down at his bowl.

"Well, I live with Greasy Sae so I've spoken to her."

"I mean... anyone outside of twelve."

"No." I say also looking in my bowl.

"Oh, okay." Peeta looks odd.

"Have you?" I ask.

"Me? I talk to Haymitch sometimes. He kinda floats around... and some other people..."

"Like who?" I ask. He's not telling me something important. I can tell. It's making me incredibly uneasy. I haven't had a secret kept from me in a long time.

"Just... people." he says.

"Anyone I would know?" I ask sharply, feeling more awake than I have in a long time.

Who could he be talking to? Effie? Plutarch? Is he going to go on Plutarch's awful singing show. I suddenly find myself trying to remember if Peeta has a good singing voice.

"You mother" Peeta says blankly.

"What?" I ask.

"I've talked to your mother a few times."

"Why have you talked to my mother?" I ask.

"She wants to know how you are. She said she hadn't heard from you..."

Suddenly I'm furious. Why should Peeta talk to my mother? I hate the thought of them talking about me. About how I'm not talking to either of them. It makes me sick.

"Well, I haven't talked to anyone really so..." I say sharply.

"Not even-"

"No. Not even." I say. Knowing who he means. Knowing that if he says his name I'll fly off the handle. Knowing that if he says his name I will loose any kind of progress I have made over the last couple months pretending that he doesn't exist and that all those terrible things that happened to me were just a bad dream.

"Gale" he finishes.

"I should go" I stand up. I have to leave.

"Katniss-" Peeta tries.

But I loose it. I loose all of my self control and I can't now I can't stop talking.

"No, Peeta. I haven't talked to Gale. I have not called him. He has not called me. Neither of us have made visits. Because I don't _want_ to talk to him and I think he knows why."

"Katniss, I'm sure he-

I stand up and throw my bowl into the fireplace. Sparks fly and I get soot all over my clothing and face. Peeta looks at me, eyes full of calm concern.

"He killed my sister!" I scream. Hot tears stream down my face making clean tracks in soot. "She's dead because of him!"

"You can't blame him for that" Peeta tries to come closer to me but I step away.

"Gale created a bomb that would explode twice." I said, my voice cold "Once to cause damage and again so that when-"

I break off for a moment. Unable to continue and Peeta hands move. It's as if he'd like to reach out and touch me. I pull away, wipe my face clean with my sleeves and start speaking even louder and with more resolve.

"So that when people came to help, they would be taken out by the second blast. Sound familiar?" I attempt to laugh darkly but it comes out as a choked sob.

"Katniss, even if it was his bomb there's no way he could of-"

"He killed her!" I am shrieking now. The more hysterical I get the calmer Peeta does and this drives me crazy. Because I don't want quiet understanding. I didn't want someone to nod and tell me that it was going to be okay. It wasn't going to be okay.

"Katniss." He tries again, his hands stretched towards me, palms up, begging for me to stop for a moment. But I don't want to. I don't want anyone's help.

"Real or not real, Peeta?" I taunted "My best friend killed my little sister?

He looks like I have just slapped him. And I am amazed by how much his reaction satisfied me.

"Real or not real?" I continue, with more fervor "I'm the reason almost everyone from twelve is dead?"

Peeta almost stares through me. I've lost his attention. Desperate to regain it I take a step closer.

"Real or not real? Your whole family is dead because of me."

His eyes focus on me for a second. Then glaze over again. I slam my palms into his chest and he's knocked back a few steps.

"Real or not real, Peeta? My mother is never going to be okay again." I start to speak even faster, punctuating each question with another shove "Real or not real? I'm never going to be able to close my eyes without seeing my little sister on fire? Real or not real? Because of me Finnick is never going to be able to see his son? Real or not real, Peta? Because of me, you'll never be normal again? Real or not real, Peeta? Real or not real?"

"Katniss, stop!" Peeta clutches my wrists and his pupils are tiny. I look at him absolutely shocked, my words stuck in my throat.

For a moment we are both absolutely silent. Neither of us breathes. I'm terrified I have pushed him over the edge. I look around the room for a blunt object, and suddenly I'm in the arena again, the first one, the second one, the Captiol. My heart starts to pound I can hear the sound in my ears. I see the ladle. But before I can run for it Peeta exhales and looks at me. He's himself again. I sigh with relief.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Katniss?" I'm shocked, unable to move.

I can only blink at him.

"You can't just do that. Do you have any idea how hard it is, for me to be around you?" He lets go of me and balls his fists up and at his sides. He clenches and unclenches them.

Clenches and unclenches.

"I understand that you're grieving. But goddamn it, you can't do that to me, Katniss!" He advances on me and for just a moment he looks just like he did before he tried to strangle me. I back away, letting out a tiny sob. All of the adrenaline I felt moments earlier is gone.

He looks crestfallen. His hands relax and he just watches me as I dissolve into tears. His hands twitch, as if he wants to hold me but he knows he shouldn't. I put my head in my hands and I cry for what feels like hours.

Soon enough I feel hands rest tentatively on my shoulders. Then my back. Then stroking my hair. I sob into his shirt.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." he says into my hair.

And we're quiet for a while. My hiccuping sobs are the only sound. I cry until I don't have any tears left.

"She's gone." My voice is hoarse, from screaming and lack of use.

Peeta nods.

"I shouldn't have-" suddenly, I can't look at him "I shouldn't have said those things to you."

Peeta doesn't tell me that's okay. He just stiffens for a moment.

I look up at him and he's looking straight ahead, not seeing anything.

Suddenly, I feel like I might be able to cry some more. But I realize there is something very important I have to say.

"I am so sorry."

Peeta shakes his head. It looks like he's trying to speak, but he can't.

"Peeta?" My voice sounds so small.

"Peeta?" His eyes dart towards me.

"I'm so sorry for everything you've lost because of me. I never meant for-"

I stop.

"It should have been me." My fists ball up, and I stick my chin out trying to be strong and keep my composure.

"Every time. It should have been me. In the first games. During the Quell. In the war. You never deserved this."

I grab his hand and he flinches. I hold it tight, kneading gently, it until he is able to relax again. Once I've gotten both his hands open again I look up at him for a minute. He still looks lost, but more gentle. More like the Peeta I used to know. It's almost like he's lost in a daydream. I start to leave, knowing I can't do anything else for him now. I'm just reaching the door when.

"Don't blame Gale." I turn around. "Don't blame him and don't blame yourself. Awful things happen when you're at war."

I lean against the doorframe. Clenching it, wanting to run to him and hold him. But I know it won't help. I know I'll just make things worse for him.

"Okay." I whisper.

And with that I leave.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long between chapters. I hope you like this one! There are more to come!**

I am terrible. I am scum. I worse than the worst. I lost all the self control I had managed to gain over the past few months and for what? To torture Peeta the one person who has always gone above and beyond to try to help me? I don't deserve his care or his attention. I cannot believe myself.

But at the same time I can't help but be annoyed with him. Who is he to pry into my life? To judge me for not talking to my mother? I can barely talk to Sae in the mornings when I wake up and the conversation with him was by far the longest I had had since my return to twelve.

There I go again, I think taking all my problems out on the people who care about me. That is, if Peeta still cares about me after last night.

I cringe, remembering the things I said to him. How could I be that cruel? Everything I said was so horrible. But what could I do to make it up to him? Is there anything I could do?

He probably doesn't even want to see me I think.

Still, I can't keep it from my mind. I need to make amends. The thought of Peeta being mad at me tears at my insides. I guess once someone saves you a certain amount of times they kind of stick with you. You can never really rid yourself of them.

I reluctantly pull myself out of bed, stretching and yawning. I take a bath, making sure to really clean my hair. I haven't let Sae cut it even though she's always asking so it's down to my waist. I braid it back and dress in my old hunting clothes.

It still feels strange to wear something other than a nightgown. My old clothes are comforting in an oddly foreign way, like wearing something of an old friend's. Try as I might, it's difficult to reconcile the girl who used to hunt in the woods with her best friend every Sunday with the one I see in the mirror. I look like a stranger in her clothes. An impostor.

This isn't important. What is important is apologizing to Peeta. So I go the only place that has ever been able to cheer me up. The woods.

I sneak past Sae, my hunter's tread proving itself invaluable. I'm walking straight into the trees when I realize I don't have a weapon. I freeze.

Should I go back?

No. I had more than one bow stashed in the woods. I just have to find one. I remember that I used to keep one in a hollowed out log by the strawberry bushes. It's a ways into the woods but it's the only one that could still be here.

I stark the trek. It's good to walk like this again. To actually feel exertion. My endurance is nowhere near where it used to be so when I reach the small lake I fall to my knees and lap up water like it's been days since my last drink. I'm just about to consider diving in when I hear it. A twig snaps.

I turn around instinctively reaching backwards for an arrow from my quiver. But there is none. I grasp at empty air as I lock eyes with it.

A lynx.

Not unlike the one that got me my old nickname, Catnip. Except this one is much bigger. And it looks angry. I back away slowly. Keeping my eyes downward. I edge my way around the lake trying to quiet my breathing. Anything I can do to make it seem like I'm not here. It doesn't move. It just watches me as I toe my way around the lake, not daring to look behind me. And that's when the worst thing happens. Just out of the corner of my eye I spot it. One of her cubs. This lynx is a mother and it's baby is feet away from me. It sleepily trots over to me and lays down at my feet trustingly. Oh no.

The lynx lets out a low growl. I try to back away but the cub gets up and follows me. The lynx flexes it's muscles ready to pounce and I do the only thing I can. I run.

I run around the lake, my eyes on a nearby tree with low branches. I hope I can still climb like I used to as I take a running leap at the lowest branch.

I scramble up the tree. My hands and feet instinctively help me scale it as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

I'm almost thirty feet in the air before I realize I am not being followed. How could I be? I look down and the lynx is circling my tree. There's no way she's letting me anywhere near her young. It's smart. Back in the days of the hob her and her cub would have been perfect for trading. Their meat and pelts would have fetched me food for two weeks and tons of supplies. But not now. Now they would only fill Greasy Sae's stew. And she never seemed to have a problem getting meat. The Capitol, or whatever it is now, must still be taking care of us.

I had never thought of it until now. But the thought of them nourishing me makes my skin crawl. I don't know who they are or how they're running things. At least back then I knew something: food came from District 11, most of it went to the Capitol, they made the decisions. It wasn't much, but I knew what was going on. I could not believe how completely in the dark I was.

I looked down again. The lynx was still down there. So much for apologizing to Peeta.

No one has any idea I'm here I think to myself.

Greasy Sae must be worried. I wonder if she went over to Peeta's to see if I'm there. I wonder what he'll think when he finds out I'm missing. He'll probably be relieved.

The lynx is still there.

I look around. The bow is only a few feet from the base of the tree. I could run to it in seconds. But I would need to distract the huge creature that wants to devour me for looking at its young.

I run my hands over the tree I'm perched in. I start grabbing anything that comes loose and clumping it together into a ball. Once it's big enough I quietly climb down to the lowest branch I dare and throw the ball as far away from the hollowed out log as I can.

The lynx's ears perk up and she runs. And so do I. I slide down the tree, sprint to the log and dig inside. I feel nothing.

I dig further, searching desperately. My hand touches the corner of the tarp it must be wrapped in. I stick my arm in, shoulder deep and pull it out. It's my father's bow. I've never been very good with it because it's so large.

I scramble back up the tree with it and a quiver and wait.

She doesn't return. I wait what must be an hour and the lynx still isn't back. I climb down and head towards home when I realize. Peeta. I still haven't gotten him anything. I look around and that's when I remember.

Strawberries. I pick as many as I come, filing my quiver with them. Once I've gotten as many as I can I start for home.

I'm almost out of the forrest when I hear it again. The snap of a twig. I turn around, armed this time and find myself staring at the cub. It makes a pathetic mewing sound and I can't bring myself to shoot it so I turn and run out of the woods. I run so hard that by the time I reach the fence my clothes stick to me and my breath is ragged.

I realize I still have my father's bow. I suppose I can bring it with me now. There really is no District 12 so it's no longer illegal to hunt here and even if it is, who's going to stop me?

I trudge up the path to Victor's Village, peeling my hunting jacket off and enjoying the cool breeze.

I get to Peeta's door and I knock. Prepared to offer him a quiver full of berries and my meager apology. But no one comes to the door. So I return to my house.

When I walk in the door Sae screams that I've been gone all day and I nearly killed her, running off like that.

I apologize and tell her I went to the woods. For some reason, this calms her. I guess she likes seeing me do things I used to do.

Before we can talk more, I try to ready my peace offering for Peeta. I put the berries in two baskets, one for us and one for him. I'm determined to let him know I'm sorry. And if he won't talk to me, I'll write him a letter. Sae keeps trying to talk to me but I am more focused on this than I have been on anything since my return to 12. I need to say I'm sorry.

I sit down at the desk in my room. I root around the drawers and find some paper and something to write with. I stare at the blank page searching for the right words to say.

Later that night, Peeta returned to Victor's Village. He had been looking for Katniss all day. The second she went missing Greasy Sae had called him over. He had been out all day searching for her. It was too dark and when he returned to Victor's Village he found the lights on in Katniss' house.

Greasy Sae invited him in but he chose to stay outside. She explained that Katniss had gone to the woods without telling her. That sounded like Katniss. When Sae asked if Peeta wanted to talk to her he said no and headed home. She was home and that was what counted. She wouldn't want to talk to him after what happened last night.

When he returned to his house he found a small basket on the doorstep. It was full of strawberries. And there was a note. This was strange. He walked inside and turned on the lights so he could read it.

_Peeta,_

_ I shouldn't have said those things last night. I'm sorry. _

_ Katniss _


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I'm considering another trip back into the woods. Yesterday's voyage marked the first time I had felt normal in I can't remember how long. But I need to get my strength back up. I think about the exercises Peeta, Haymitch and I did before the Quell. They seem like a life time ago.

Still, might not be bad to consider if I don't want to be catnip again. I get dressed and head down to the room when I hear it. A knock at the door. I look at Greasy Sae and her niece. With only four people in town and three of them in this room there is only one person it can be.

"Peeta," I open the door to find him standing there, shifting his weight awkwardly with a dish in his hands.

"I made you a cake," he blurts out in a rush.

"You made me a cake?" I ask unable to believe that he's actually talking to me. I thought he was refusing to speak to me because of our fight.

"Yeah, umm" he looks down at the cake and not at me "whenever we had strawberries... my dad used to-"

He cuts off and we stand there quietly.

"You made cake," I say giving him a small smile.

"I made cake," he confirms returning my smile shyly.

We stand there for a moment, smiling at each other.

"Won't you come in, Peeta?" Sae asks.

"I couldn't-" Peeta starts.

"Nonsense!" she cries and he looks nervous. Sae must be desperate to talk to someone. I guess I'm not much of a conversation partner.

"Sure," Peeta agrees "what else am I doing?"

He ducks inside. I move to take his coat but he quickly removes it himself and hangs it on the nearby rack. There's still a palpable awkwardness between us but I try to keep things light.

"So... this cake... Can we eat it?" I ask, attempting a playful tone.

"Oh? Yeah," he hands me the dish and I look at the cake. It's a golden brown and it smells amazing.

"It's strawberry short cake," he tells me "I thought it would go well with the strawberries..."

He looks me in the eye.

"...that you gave me. Thanks for those by the way."

"Sure," I say, tearing my gaze away from his and focusing on my hunting boots.

"Why don't we slice it up?" Sae asks, ending another awkward silence. Why is it so difficult for me to talk to him?

We both nod and make noises of agreement so she starts slicing up the cake and dumping strawberries on top.

"I've never had this before," I admit to Peeta.

"I guess that makes sense," Peeta says "it's kind of a middle of the road desert. Not fancy enough for the Capitol, too fancy for twelve most of the time. We used to make it for the Mayor Undersee because he loved strawberries..."

I nod, trying not to think about Madge and her family and how they, like almost everyone I have ever known, are dead because of me.

Sae guides us to the table. We sit down and I take a bite. It's amazing. Excluding Peeta's dinner, I haven't really paid attention to anything I've eaten in months. And this is a great time to start. The cake is perfectly sweet and spongy and the strawberries are amazingly tart and fresh. I gobble up my first slice before Peeta and Sae are halfway done and I find myself scurrying to get myself seconds.

I'm halfway through my second slice when I realize Peeta is staring at me, smiling.

"It's really good cake," I tell him, smiling.

"Thanks, it seems like you like it," he says as he watches me shovel cake into my mouth.

"I do," I reply turning my attention back to the perfect desert in front of me, not able to meet his gaze for too long.

"So, Peeta, keeping yourself busy?" Sae asks, unable to keep quiet when she finally has someone who will absolutely respond.

Peeta takes a minute to swallow. I watch him and it seems like he's trying very hard to come up with a good response. Like he doesn't want to let Sae down.

"Trying to," he wipes his mouth "I don't have a whole lot to do. I draw, write letters to a few people in the Capitol..."

He avoids my eyes again and I know he means my mother. I refuse to get angry again. While I can't say I'm happy that they talk behind my back this is no time to have another temper tantrum. Not when Peeta and I are finally being civil to each other. Not when I owe him so much.

"Well that sounds nice," Sae responds eagerly, positively giddy from his company.

But before Sae can get another word out the phone rings.

This is a pretty unusual occurrence so we all freeze for a moment. I can't remember the phone ringing in... well, ages I suppose.

"I'll get that," Sae hops up and dashes for the phone in the other room. Leaving Peeta and me alone.

I decide to break the silence before it can set in and become dense and uncomfortable.

"She's over the moon to have you here," I tell him "I think she needs to get out more."

Peeta laughs at my terrible attempt at humor.

"I suppose there's not many social calls for her to pay out here," he gives me a small smile "maybe we can get her a pen pal."

I laugh quietly.

"Well thank you for talking to her," I say "she doesn't really get to... converse much."

"Really?" Peeta asks in mock surprise "But she has you, the master of conversation!"

My jaw drops. Peeta has made a real joke! And at my expense!

"I happen to be a great person to talk to," I start and then I stop, not even I can keep this joke alive. We both know I can be unfriendly and laconic.

"Okay, fair enough I'm terrible to talk with." I concede and Peeta grins at me.

"I could always talk to you," Peeta says.

I look at him and I can't find any trace of a joke on his face.

"Really?" I ask.

"Really." Peeta tells me and I know it's genuine.

We smile at each other for a moment. It's perfectly quiet and neither of us feels the need to break it with awkward chit chat. We can just be. It's so nice. It's the most comfortable I've felt since I've been back. Better than the forrest. Better than those few dreamless naps I've been able to sneak in. Better than anything.

"Sorry about that, kids!" booms Sae as she returns to the kitchen.

Peeta and I both jump. We forgot we weren't alone. We give each other sheepish smiles and return to our cake.

I find myself feeling glad I dropped those strawberries off at his door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Sorry it's been an incredibly long time in between updates. I hope that this chapter somewhat makes up for it. **

Chapter Seven

He visits every day that week. Every single day.

I start taking a bath every day, brushing my hair, dressing. Effie used to call it "making an effort."

I'm making an effort. And it feels like an effort. For the first time since the Quell I'm lucid consistently. No hiding in closets. No one depending on me for their sovereignty. But still, this is one of the hardest things I've ever done.

It's like getting out of a hole. I feel like every day since I came back to twelve, every day I spent in bed or staring out my window, I dug myself a little bit deeper. And now, here I am, standing at the bottom trying to get out. And I'm making an effort.

We don't say much to each other. Greetings, pleasantries, small talk. Nothing deep. Nothing about my mother. Nothing about Haymitch. Nothing about the people we've both lost, dead or otherwise.

But one day he doesn't show up.

I wait. He usually visits around lunch time. Sae made stew. She makes a lot of stews. I'm starting to realize that's the only thing she can make.

Eventually I eat without him. He must be late.

"Where's Peeta?" Sae asks.

"I don't know," I blurt out. "It's not like we had plans."

We didn't. Yesterday he didn't tell me he'd be here today. I just assumed.

Every day this week I felt like I was climbing out of the hole. Today I felt like I was clinging to the side, trying to grab a foothold.

It was dinner time. He still hadn't showed up. His lights had been off all day. It was dark now and they were still off. Was he out?

Every second he didn't show up was a second for me to worry about him. Was he angry with me? Had I done something to upset him? Had he gotten bad news? Had he gotten hurt?

I got into my nightgown and lay in bed wide awake. I tried every trick I had ever tried to get myself to sleep. Nothing worked.

I sprung out of bed and dressed quickly and quietly.

I crept out of the house and bounded over to Peeta's.

I didn't hesitate until I was at his door. I held my fist up ready to knock. But just like when I visited him for dinner, I stopped short.

Maybe he didn't visit me today because he has no interest in seeing me. Maybe he's staying home for a perfectly good reason that has nothing to do with me. Maybe me being here will only make both of us feel worse. Maybe we were never meant to be in each other's lives and everything would have been better if I had stayed in the Seam and he had continued baking for his parents.

Something about that last thought felt completely and utterly wrong to me. Maybe I was meant to live in the Seam but Peta was never meant to keep working for his mother.

I knock on the door loudly and rapidly before I can stop myself.

I wait. Nothing.

I wait more.

Either he wasn't there or he didn't want to see me.

Many things about this terrified me. If he wasn't there he could be in danger. It was dark and the rubble that used to be our home was barely safe for someone with a prosthetic leg in the daytime. And if he was home...

I trek into town. I have to know.

I squint, trying to see further in front of my face than the moonlight will allow but to no avail.

Muscle memory takes me where I needed to go. After the games, after the Quell, after the war, I still know my district.

Finally, I find him. He is cradling something in his arms near the stump of a tree that somehow made it through the Capitol's bombing.

"Peeta?" I speak barely above a whisper. I can't help but feel like I am intruding on something incredibly intimate.

Peeta turns to look at me. He seems younger than I've seen him in a long time. We have both grown up so much over the past few years. But something about the way he looks at me is childlike.

"Are you- What are you doing out here?" I ask, cursing myself for being somewhere I am not wanted.

Peeta looks at me sadly, and suddenly the youth is gone. He looks at least a decade older.

"It's her birthday," he tells me.

I am confused. As one of the four people in District Twelve, I am pretty sure it wasn't my birthday, Sae's birthday, or her niece's.

But then it hits me.

I turn around and I can almost see her on the porch, yelling at me as I try to take shelter under the tree. Screaming at me to get off her property. Reminding me how utterly powerless and low I feel.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Peeta asks me.

I look at him, confused. Nothing seems ironic to me.

Until I see what Peeta has in his arms.

"I burned it," Peeta admits. "I didn't realize the date. And then I threw it together and I lost track-"

He cuts himself off.

I look at the slightly blackened loaf of bread in his hands and I am reminded of how kind Peeta was. How sensitive. It meant a lot to him to be liked by people. It must have hurt to have his mother be so cruel to him. She didn't deserve a son like him. Someone so caring and thoughtful and gentle.

Somehow I don't think he would find that comforting.

Instead, I gently took the bread and placed it on the stump. I take his hands.

I don't say anything. I just stand with him a while.

After a period of time that could have been ten minutes or an hour, I gently tug his hand.

He looks at me. He's scared. He feels like he can't leave.

"I didn't-" his eyes dart around. He's panicking.

My breath catches for a second. I don't know how to keep him from going off the rails. I exhale. Hard. And take a new breath.

"It's okay. You came here. You did the right thing."

It feels clunky and awkward. But it was something.

He squeezes my hand.

"I miss her," his voice is almost inaudible.

I look at him. Tears stream silently down his cheeks. I think about the woman I saw who hit her son and yelled when he tried to help me. I think about Peeta growing up, never feeling like she loved him. How it would feel to lose that. To lose almost everything.

"That's okay," I tell him before wrapping my arms around him.


End file.
